A Cure for Love
by JoJo4
Summary: Draco and Hermione would do anything to escape the ancient prophecy imposed upon them by the mysteriously illogical Hogwarts faculty. Will they escape from their marriage unscathed, or will the whims of their professors rule the day?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: The character of Harry Potter and Harry Potter the franchise does not belong to me. I hold no rights with respect to anything in this story except for the plot. I am not profiting from the online publication of this story.

Author's Notes: This is a parody and is not meant to be taken seriously. At the same time, it is meant to be an enjoyable romance.

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A Cure for Love

by Jen Ann Bradley

Prologue: The Ancient Prophecy™

One evening many hundreds of years ago in a castle enveloped in a gloomy and atmospheric fog, Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor were playing cards. Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff were watching from the sidelines, for they had folded several hands ago. Both players and spectators had drunk a large quantity of extremely rich French wine, and were almost completely naked because that is what happens when people get drunk.

At one point Salazar Slytherin was bluffing, but had run out of money, clothes and property interests. As backing out of the hand would have been contrary to his honor, Slytherin's only remaining option was to bet his future offspring.

"Dost thou yield?" asked Gryffindor, attempting not to smirk.

"Yield?" bellowed Slytherin. "Never! I see thy forty thousand ducats and raise you everything of value left to me."

"But what value hast thou left to offer me?"

"Why, the life of my firstborn child."

Gryffindor considered this for a moment. He was very drunk to have done even this much. "And what shall I do with this firstborn child?" he asked.

Slytherin offered several unsavory suggestions, but the two finally resolved that the firstborn child would be Gryffindor's to marry, should it be a girl. And it would be Gryffindor's to beat should it be a boy. However, several weeks later Slytherin and Gryffindor had a falling out over who would get the last piece of wedding cake and this drove a wedge in the agreement.

Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were dismayed to say the least, because they liked weddings and love stories, but mostly because each woman had wanted to catch the bouquet. In order to punish their friends' male pride, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff banded together and concocted the most dastardly and evil curse that was in their power to make without the aid of dark magic: _MARRIAGE_.

Yes, someday in the future offspring of Gryffindor and offspring of Slytherin would be forced to marry, and if they didn't then something terrible and disastrous would happen. When the two men discovered the curse, they were furious. But it was too late. The Curse had been uttered, both in English and ungrammatical Latin. Even worse, the witches had made it rhyme in verse, which doubled the curse's power. All that Gryffindor and Slytherin could do was delay the curse's power for a while. And so, the Ancient Prophecy™ of Slytherin and Gryffindor was created, and our story begins…


	2. In which the prophecy is discovered

Disclaimer: The character of Harry Potter and Harry Potter the franchise does not belong to me. I hold no rights with respect to anything in this story except for the plot. I am not profiting from the online publication of this story.

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Chapter One: In Which the Prophecy is Discovered

Draco Malfoy awoke in his bed at Hogwarts with no particular premonition of the grand adventure just about to befall him. He didn't realize that soon he would find the love of his life, and that even sooner than that he would be married and, with some aid from his wife, would father the savior of the world according to an Ancient Prophecy™. All Draco knew was that he was hungry and had the unpleasant taste in his mouth that one gets after sleeping for twelve hours straight.

Beside him lay Pansy Parkinson (naked of course), but although she was very good at sex for a seventeen year old girl attending a boarding school, she was not to be the love of Draco's life and therefore does not come into the story much after this chapter. Yet she was present this morning of the day that would forever change Draco's life, and she was watching him from the corner of her eye as he wriggled out from under the covers and ran for the lavatory (probably so he could wank off while thinking of a certain muggleborn, who haunted his dreams).

Pansy had no idea either what Draco's fate was to be, but she did have some inkling that it was not entwined with hers. It might have been that Draco had a habit of mumbling, "Get the BLEEP off me, Pansy!" in his sleep that triggered her slow realization. It might have been the dozen times he had shoved her out of bed, or perhaps it was the fact that he liked to call out Hermione Granger's name during…_you know_. At any rate, Pansy had figured out by now that Draco probably didn't love her. Even so, she was determined to marry Draco because Pansy was madly in love with him. Besides, it had always been Pansy's particular wish to marry the son of a Death Eater. The son of a Death Eater would also, no doubt, be one of the most virile specimens in Great Britain, and this was important to Pansy as she had not the intelligence to appreciate anything in a man other than his virility.

At any rate, Pansy could see that her dream of marrying Draco Malfoy was slipping further away from her with each passing second. She pondered her inevitable disappointment as she got out of the enormous double bed that Draco had by virtue of his status as Head Boy. She dressed and returned to Slytherin House to collect her books and made her way to her first class of the day, which happened to be Divination.

Once in Divination class, some very dull dialogue was exchanged, and eventually Pansy, for no other reason than to advance the plot, posed this question to Professor Trewlaney: "Who will my husband be?"

Upon hearing these words, Professor Trewlaney went into a deep trance during which she uttered these fatal words, "YOU SHALL NOT MARRY THE BOY WITH THE NAME OF THE SERPENT, FOR HE IS BOUND BY ANCIENT PROPHECY™ TO MARRY ONLY FROM THE TREE OF THE LION'S HOUSE. THE CHILD OF SNAKE AND LION WILL TRIUMPH OVER ALL, AND ALSO WILL DISCOVER THE CURES TO LYCANTHROPY AND VAMPIRISM. THE TIME IS AT HAND. SOON…LOOK TO THE BOY WHOSE NAME MEANS DRAGON…"

And these words were brought to the attention of Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape, and the conversation which followed was:

Dumbledore: "Well, what an interesting development. How very glad I am to have hired Ms. Trewlaney. We have gotten prodigious use out of her. Would anyone care for a Bertie Bots Bean? No? Well, it seems to me that the cures for lycanthropy and vampirism would be of great service to humanity. It seems that two of our students must marry."

McGonagall: "That is assuming this prophecy is true, Albus. It seems ludicrous to me, frankly. I never did believe in Trewlaney's nonsense."

Snape: "I concur with Professor McGonagall. The nature of this prophecy is highly suspect. It seems too specific to be genuine. As you know, valid prophecies are generally vague and self-fulfilling."

Dumbledore: "Yes yes, but that is precisely why we must butt in to make sure it comes true. Then it really would be genuine, and what a marvelous notion that would be! Would anyone care for a Canary Crème? Does anyone have anyone have any idea who the potential parents might be?"

McGonagall: "But Albus, that doesn't make any logical sense…"

Dumbledore: "I'm sorry, I can't hear what you're saying, Minerva. Severus?"

Snape: "Any idiot could look in a Latin dictionary and see that the name 'Draco' means Dragon. Obviously Mr. Malfoy is implicated in this pathetic plot to trigger two unfortunate students' nuptials."

Dumbledore: "Ah. And as everyone can see, there is only one girl from Gryffindor likely to bear a genius child who could discover the cures for both lycanthropy and vampirism…"

And so our favorite trio of professors schemed and plotted to bring about the savior of afflicted werewolves and vampires, discarding any notion of ethics in the pursuit of progress.


	3. In which Hermione refuses to marry Draco

Disclaimer: The character of Harry Potter and Harry Potter the franchise does not belong to me. I hold no rights with respect to anything in this story except for the plot. I am not profiting from the online publication of this story.

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Chapter Two: In Which Hermione Refuses to Marry Draco

Hermione strode up the steps leading to Dumbledore's office, wondering what on earth could have caused him to summon her at this time of the night. She had been busy in the library studying a giant volume of arithmancy problems that might come up on the NEWTS. It had been the first occasion she'd had all week to get away from Gryffindor Tower because her relationship with Ron had progressed to such a point where...

(Because this is a D/Hr fic, all sections concerning Ron's romance with Hermione have been edited out.)

...However, McGonagall's timely knock on the door had ended her study session, and now Hermione was approaching the giant oak doors leading to Dumbledore's antechamber. McGonagall followed her, silent and nervous as usual. But as they reached the top step, McGonagall pushed around her and muttered the password. As they entered in, the professor turned around and said, with a touch of something like regret, "I'm afraid you're not going to like this, Miss Granger."

"Whatever do you mean, Professor?"

"You'll see," she answered without further explanation.

Hermione stepped into the antechamber to find Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore staring at her. Dumbledore was grinning madly and stuffing little lemon candies into his mouth. Snape glowered at her, yet there was something unfamiliar in his expression. If Hermione hadn't known better, she might have described it as pity.

"Ah, Miss Granger, how kind of you to join us," said Dumbledore. "I believe you know Mr. Malfoy."

He motioned to a figure Hermione had not noticed before and discovered to her chagrin that Draco Malfoy was present in the room. He stood with his arms folded across his chest and wouldn't meet her eyes. Her mind instantly flitted to the prank Harry and Ron had played on Slytherin House the week before, and wondered if Malfoy had blamed her for the exploding monkeys. That had actually been Ginny's work, but Malfoy had been tormenting her in particular ever since Seventh Year began. It wouldn't be out of character for him to place the blame on her shoulders.

"We've already informed Mr. Malfoy of the reason you are here," explained Dumbledore with a flourish.

Hermione knew this meant that Malfoy had not informed Dumbledore of the exploding monkey incident. She snuck another glance at Draco, to find him glaring at her. Yet just as before he refused to meet her gaze. As soon as their eyes met, he looked away.

"It seems that you and Draco are the parties mentioned in a new prophecy."

Hermione blinked. What else could one do in such a situation? She simply waited for Dumbledore to elaborate.

Just then, McGonagall assaulted her with a hug. "Congratulations are in order, my dear," she said. Although, Hermione felt that the embrace was meant to be consoling rather than celebratory. McGonagall patted her on the back as if she were a crying baby. The gesture only served to make Hermione more nervous than before.

"Congratulations? Whatever for?"

"You are to be married!" exclaimed Dumbledore with satanic glee.

"For Heaven's sake, Albus, you can't just blurt it out like that," cried McGonagall.

Snape pouted from his corner. "I fail to see how any one could bring up this ludicrous plan with any measure of tact," he mumbled. Hermione just gaped at them all.

"But Ron hasn't asked…" she stammered.

"Not to Mr. Weasley, you stupid girl," barked Snape. "Mr. Malfoy. Why else would he look so depressed?"

Hermione looked at Draco and surmised that he appeared unpleasant and gloomy and that nothing about him was different from the norm.

"Just look at him," Snape motioned. "He's devastated. I've seen the corpses of mangled puppies in better form."

If Hermione hadn't been so floored, she might have speculated as to where Snape would have had the opportunity to see the corpse of a mangled puppy. As it was, the only thing she could bring herself to say was, "_I'm_ not going to marry him."

Dumbledore appeared to choke on one of his lemon drops. "Why ever not?" he asked.

Hermione carefully pondered which of her hundreds of objections she should raise first. "Well…I haven't even heard this prophecy," she said. "I don't even know why it's so important that I fulfill it."

"What's to hear?" said Dumbledore. "Deep, shaking voice. Garbled words. You don't need to hear the prophecy, Miss Granger. Just have faith. This prophecy is merely the prelude to a better world."

Hermione shuffled her weight from one foot to the other. "Professor, I don't feel that this is exactly fair…"

"And I'd have to agree with Granger," spat Draco. It was the first thing he'd said since she'd entered the room. And Hermione would have appreciated his support, were it not for the next thing he said…

"You just wait until my father hears about this! I always knew this school was cracked, but this is taking your mudblood-loving tendencies too far. You've all gone mad if you think I'd ever marry _that_!"

"See!" said Hermione. "I can't marry a person who thinks like that!"

"We can't always have what we want, Ms. Granger," offered McGonagall, weakly.

In response to this, Snape continued to sneer. Dumbledore ate more candy and Malfoy looked like he was having a hernia. Hermione gave each one a last look.

"Is this a joke?" she asked.

"Oh no, my dear," Dumbledore answered. "And if it were, it would be a very bad one."

"I'll say," Draco mumbled.

Hermione looked around the room, pondering the best way to withdraw from this surreal conference. Already a plan was forming in her mind. It involved finding Ron and eloping with him as quickly as possible. "Could I have a day or so to think it over?"

"You may not," said Snape. "We will perform the ceremony immediately."

Hermione nodded, processing this. "In that case," she said. "I am going to have to run."

With that, she sprinted to the exit, threw open the door and fled down the steps toward Gryffindor Tower. No one seemed to be following her or even trying to stop her. She made it back to the common room without any interference. Once inside, she found Ron sitting before the fireplace with Crookshanks on his lap. "Ron!" she cried. "We have to get married. _Immediately_!"


	4. In Which Hermione and Ron Elope

Disclaimer: The character of Harry Potter and Harry Potter the franchise does not belong to me. I hold no rights with respect to anything in this story except for the plot. I am not profiting from the online publication of this story.

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Chapter Three: In Which Hermione and Ron Elope so that Hermione Doesn't Have to Marry Draco

"_We have to get married. Immediately!"_

Ron looked at Hermione. "M…m…me?" he stammered. His face was so smeared with chocolate that Hermione could barely read his surprise. His hands, which had been shoving gads of Chocolate Frogs into his face were likewise coated. Beside him sat the evidence of his late night splurge. "Why would you want to marry me?" he asked in a small, pathetic voice.

Hermione noticed some chocolate on his shirt. Even so, Ron was better than Malfoy. She lunged forward and seized him by the hand, hauling him off the divan. Crookshanks to tumbled to the floor with a loud hiss and scratched at Ron's trousers.

"There's no time to explain," she told him even as she dragged him to the door. "You'll have to trust me on this one."

"Maybe we should talk about this," said Ron, using his superior strength to stop her and turn her around. "I know that we're of age now, and we can do what we want. But what you're suggesting is absolutely barmy. And this really isn't a good ti…

"_Stupefy!_"

Hermione watched her boyfriend drop to the ground mid-sentence before she cast _mobilicorpus_. For half a second she considered that forcing Ron into marriage was no better than what Dumbledore was trying to coerce her to do. Yet, Hermione was certain that Ron loved her and…

(A/N: Oh my God, who cares?)

…Hermione stood in front of the priest with her stupefied husband-to-be. They were in a conveniently placed muggle church near Hogsmeade. It sported some lovely gothic architecture and would have been quite romantic had Ron not looked like a corpse and had the priest not been gaping at them both as if they were polar bears who'd come to sunbathe in the Mojave.

"We would like to be married," said Hermione, brightly. "As soon as possible."

The priest tried to cough, but wound up blinking like a strobe light. "Excuse me, Miss, but is your fiancé alive?"

Hermione glanced at Ron, whose chocolate-covered mouth hung open. He appeared to be experiencing rigor mortis. "Oh, him? He's just sleeping."

She knocked on Ron's head and whispered, "_Finite Incantatem_" under her breath.

"Wake up, honey. Time for the ceremony!" She emitted a nervous laugh. "He's just excited."

Ron came to in a jiffy. His ears and face turned red with anger, and he began to wipe furiously at the dried chocolate on his mouth. "Now you listen, Hermione…" he started.

"Ron, just marry me and I'll explain later."

"I'm not going to marry you, Hermione."

She rolled her eyes and motioned to the priest to commence the ceremony. "Everyone knows we're destined for each other anyway," she said. "Let's just get it over with so I don't have to mar…"

"I'm already married," he blurted out. With a gasp, he clapped his hands over his mouth.

"You're _what_?" shouted Hermione.

"I married Luna this afternoon," Ron explained. "I'm not exactly sure why…it's all very fuzzy."

The priest was saying, "Aren't you two a bit young to be getting married _at all_?" but no one listened to him.

"I'm actually quite upset about it," said Ron. "That's why I was splurging on the Chocolate Frogs when you came in. It was an act of self-pity."

"If you didn't want to marry her, then why did you do it?" groaned Hermione, sinking into the nearest pew in defeat.

"I don't remember exactly. I think someone told me we were soulmates, but I can't remember who it was."

Hermione sat straight up. "A memory charm! Someone made you do it and then erased your memory!"

"That is excellent detective work, Miss Granger," came a very familiar voice from behind the altar. Ron and Hermione whipped around to find Severus Snape emerging from his hiding place. His wand was pointed at their necks.

"You have correctly deduced that it was not of Mr. Weasley's own free will that he married Miss Lovegood. Although, if I may say it, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that someone married Miss Lovegood by force."

"How could you do it, Professor?" Hermione asked. "And why?"

"Mr. Weasley is so simpleminded that I didn't even need to use the _Imperius Curse_ to convince him to marry against his better inclinations. And as for _why_, Dumbledore knew you'd go crawling to Mr. Weasley to save you. He asked me to get him out of the way, and I did it because Dumbledore is the man who decides whether or not I receive tenure."

"How awful," sniffed Hermione.

"I don't want your pity!" shouted Snape, sneering harder than he'd ever sneered in his life. "And _you_," he said, looking at Ron. "Don't even think about obtaining a divorce, Weasley. There are hundreds of girls at Hogwarts for me to coerce you into marrying. Perhaps you'd like the Patil sisters…or Lavender Brown…"

Ron whimpered.

"Now, Miss Granger, you will return to the castle with me. Mr. Malfoy awaits."

"NEVER," she proclaimed, pulling out her wand. "I'd rather die!"

"Honestly, Hermione," piped Ron, "You're being rather emotional about this, aren't you? Malfoy isn't all that bad. Have you seen him in leather?"

"He doesn't wear leather!" cried Hermione. "He wears the same school uniform as everyone else!"

"Have you seen him naked?" asked Ron.

This question broke Hermione's concentration long enough for Snape to stupefy her. The last thought that entered Hermione's brain before all went black was, _'Actually yes, I saw Malfoy naked in the Prefect's bath once, and I think I'm passing out now…"_


	5. In Which Hermione and Draco are Isolated

Disclaimer: The character of Harry Potter and Harry Potter the franchise does not belong to me. I hold no rights with respect to anything in this story except for the plot. I am not profiting from the online publication of this story.

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Chapter Four: In Which Hermione and Draco are Isolated in a Private Room

Hermione awoke with a jolt, but it was only after a long while that understanding of her surroundings came to her. She felt a piece of soft cloth around her face, which she realized after opening her eyes and seeing nothing but darkness could only be a blindfold. Her hands were free, but the stupefaction curse had left her drowsy. Her muscles were atrophied and all she wanted to do was lie still on the soft mattress beneath her.

_Wait a second…"mattress?"_

Hermione sat upright, yanking the blindfold from her face. She was in a stone room with a small window overlooking the lake, meaning they must be in some tower within the school. And to her chagrin, she discovered in front of her, bound to a chair and gagged, was Draco Malfoy. His eyes were frightened and deranged. They grew only wider when he saw that she had awakened. He began to speak, but the gag inhibited his speech, causing it to come out, "MMM!!! MMMM MMMHMMMM HMM RRRARRR! MMM!!!!"

As pleasant as it was not to have to endure any insults from Malfoy, Hermione didn't feel it was strictly fair to leave him tied to the chair. She hasted over to him and removed his gag.

"Finally!" he exclaimed as she began to untie the rope that held him to the chair. Obviously Malfoy had put up quite a struggle, for the rope was wound around his torso and the chair back at least ten times. His hands also were fastened behind him. "For Merlin's sake, I thought you'd never wake up. I thought I'd be stuck here forever, forced to stare at _you_."

"How did I wake up at all?" asked Hermione, choosing to ignore the insult. "I thought they had me stupefied."

"I can only presume it was timed to expire," he replied, looking superior.

"Why the blindfold?"

"I'd like to think it was a courtesy to me, but I think it was probably because no one wanted to look at your gaping wide eyeballs."

Once again, Hermione ignored the insult. She was too busy pondering her next question. But it was more difficult for her to voice than the others. Her voice shook as she asked, "Are we…are we married?"

"How should I know?!" Draco exclaimed, scowling. "I've been tied and gagged to this chair all day. Maybe they've drawn up our marriage certificate and they're forging our signatures right now."

This piece of news actually pleased Hermione. But when Draco seemed confused by her expression, she explained further: "If they forge our signatures, then the marriage contract will be invalid! As long as we don't give our consent, there's nothing the professors can do."

But then a voice boomed overhead, _"WRONG AGAIN, Miss Granger!"_

Hermione stood suddenly, whipping her head around to look for the source of the voice that sounded so much like Professor Snape's. "Where are you?!" she exclaimed. Her eyes darted about the room, but she could see no one. Obviously Snape was using a projecting spell to transmit the sound of his voice. Which meant...he was probably watching her too. "Please just leave us alone!" she begged.

"_As much as I would prefer to do so, I'm afraid that will be impossible until you both consensually sign the marriage agreement."_

"That'll be a cold day in Hell!" shouted a defiant Malfoy, rising up from his chair. He shook his fist at the air. "I'll never marry Granger! I'd rather face the rack!"

Hermione knew it was just an expression, but she her womanly pride was injured that this known coward, whom she and her friends had continually managed to intimidate and humiliate, would rather face a device of torture than marry her. Then a thought occurred to her. "Do you even know what the rack is, Malfoy?" she hissed.

Malfoy considered the question. "I'd rather face the rack in a metaphorical sense, Sir!"

"_As it happens, the two of you do have an unpleasant task before you. Look upon the table to your left, Mr. Malfoy," _said Snape's disembodied voice.

Malfoy did as he was told and cringed when he saw what lay there. Hermione's eyes also drifted towards the table where she discovered to her utter horror several fat volumes of Arithmancy text books and an assignment sheet lying beside them.

"_This should remind you that there are worse things than wedded bliss. Either you get married… or you sit in a room with nothing else to do besides learn Arithmancy!"_

Draco gasped. Hermione just frowned. "What's the large mattress for?" she asked, her voice shaking.

Snape's diabolical laughter rang throughout the room. _"A know-it-all like you, Ms. Granger, ought to be able to figure that out for yourself. BWAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"_

"No! Please, no!" she cried. "Harry, save me! Harry! Ron! Ginny! Hagrid! ANYBODY!"

But Harry was too busy brooding and Ron was at the Ministry trying to obtain an annulment and Ginny was off somewhere with somebody doing something and Hagrid actually believed in the Ancient Prophecy™. No one came to help and so Hermione had nothing to do but sit at the table with Draco and work with him on the Arithmancy problem.

Except Draco pushed his papers and quill away. "Bugger this," said he.

Hermione took one good look at Draco and felt that they had made an emotional connection through their mutual hatred of the situation and their shared distaste for the arithmancy problems before them. And she might have begun to fall in love with him right there had she been in a parallel universe where Draco did not fall asleep and drool all over his parchment.


	6. In Which there is UST

Disclaimer: The character of Harry Potter and Harry Potter the franchise does not belong to me. I hold no rights with respect to anything in this story except for the plot. I am not profiting from the online publication of this story.

A/N: I edited the last chapter a little bit. I wasn't satisfied with it. Also, I used to have planned chapter titles, but I lost that file. I can't remember what I was going to make fun of next. If you have some suggestions, feel free to make them!

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Chapter Five: In Which there is Unresolved Sexual Tension…Kind of…Not Really

Draco awoke with a massive crick in his neck. The side of his mouth and part of his cheek was wet, meaning that he must have drooled while napping on the table. But he couldn't have helped it. He had been so exhausted from the past few days' activity and there was no way he was about to climb onto that mattress that the faculty had set up for…for him and _Granger_.

He couldn't imagine what had gotten into any of them. Snape had always favoured him and treated him kindly. McGonagall and Dumbledore were goody-two-shoes types, but they had never acted completely looney before. Draco couldn't explain any of it. All he knew was that he'd been hurled into an unpleasant situation and it wasn't his fault. But it was _someone's_ fault. He didn't know who. Normally he would have blamed Potter or Weasley or Granger, but it was obvious to him that this was not the case.

Oh, but he wanted to blame Granger. He wanted a good excuse to turn around and shake that little mudblood until all his frustration was vented. Technically if she had never been born, he wouldn't be here, stuck in this room with nothing to do but Arithmancy. AND he wouldn't feel so bloody annoyed. He hadn't even turned around to watch her, but he could hear her moving about the room, tapping the walls and the glass window panes. Draco's limited patience edged towards the brink as Hermione subjected him to the ruckus she was causing. Finally, he growled, "What in God's name are you doing, Granger?"

"I'm trying to get us out of here, you miserable twerp," she said without pausing between her taps. "I'm hoping to find a loose stone or a secret passageway out of here."

"I don't think you're going to find one, so why don't you just sit down and shut up?"

"Unlike you, Malfoy, cowardly little shit that you are, I've been in plenty of worse scrapes and I've always managed to get out. Now, if you haven't noticed, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape haven't been behaving rationally of late. It's possible they were careless and forgot about an escape route."

Draco scoffed at the idea. "It's also possible that Snape is listening to this entire conversation just like he was thirty minutes ago. And I'm not a coward."

"Three hours ago. Your nap lasted that long. You also have parchment sticking to your cheek, and yes you are."

"No I'm not," said Draco.

Hermione tapped the window pane. "Yes you are."

"…No, I'm _not._"

"What about that time Buckbeak bit your little finger and you howled like a prissy little girl?"

"I was acting," said Draco. Off her look of doubt, he added, "I'm a good actor."

"Well, if you've only been pretending that you're a spoiled, self-absorbed, ill-humored, spineless, pasty-faced bastard for the past five years, then I'd have to agree."

"Don't you talk to me that way, you filthy little…"

Hermione had crossed the room and slapped him hard in the face before he could finish. The sting was so violent that it almost brought tears to Draco's eyes. His whole cheek was on fire, but he didn't dare cry. He didn't dare show any pain now that he'd been accused of cowardice. But Draco couldn't let the insult go unanswered. In all his years, no one had ever laid a hand to him except for this little wisp of a girl.

His pride smarted and his anger took hold of him. Draco pounced on Hermione. He used his greater strength to pull her to the cold stone floor and he sat on top of her, pinning her to the floor. He brought his fist up, prepared to strike her in the face.

Draco didn't mean to beat her because she was a woman and because he could. The only thought running through his mind was that he was furious. Had Ron Weasley lain exactly where Hermione was, it would have looked like a run-of-the-mill lunchroom scuffle between two school boys. As it was, Hermione was a school girl and not a school boy and Draco's action looked like something far more sinister…

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Dumbledore and the other professors watched the spectacle from the other side of the one-way glass that allowed them to see into the 'private room.'

"Do you think he'll kiss her?" asked McGonagall, with some degree of concern touching her voice. "I certainly hope he doesn't go through with this beating…" She sighed in relief as Hermione gouged Draco in the eye, allowing her to wrestle free.

Dumbledore popped a Canary Crème into his mouth. "It's obvious to me that they're getting along quite well. At last, we've got them talking. Soon, they'll come to an understanding, just watch."

Snape watched as Hermione picked up a chair and broke it over her attacker's head. He tried to scowl harder, but it was impossible. "As much as I hate to end this disturbing foray into the world of voyeurism, I feel disinclined to agree. They're clearly bent on killing one another."

"Nonsense, Severus. Mr. Malfoy appears to be unconscious again. Ms. Granger is too moral to kill him in that state."

"Oh no, he's getting up again," said McGonagall. "Look, he's trying to kiss her!"

"He's trying to _strangle_ her," corrected Snape.

"No no, I think he's really going to…oh I see your point."

"Professor Dumbledore," said Snape, turning towards his superior who was observing the proceedings with unabashed glee. "I think it's time to move to Plan B."

"Oh, but this is just like the satanic Beltane rituals I used to participate in when I was just a young wizardling…"

"…_Moving on to Plan B!_" cried Snape.

And an eerie voice somewhere in the castle was heard saying, "DUN DUN DUN…"


	7. In which They Wrack up Tort Damages

A/N: I can't get them out of this damned room. Sooner or later they're going to fall in love. I mean, that's how matches are made, right?

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Chapter Six: In which Draco and Hermione Rack Up Tort Damages for False Imprisonment  
by Jen Ann Bradley

After a full day isolated in the room with Malfoy, Hermione's stomach was grumbling audibly. This would have been bad enough in itself, but in addition to her hunger, she was suffering from the injuries she'd sustained in her scuffle with Malfoy. Her throat burned from when he'd attempted to throttle her and the knuckles of both hands ached from the rough punches she'd thrown his way.

Malfoy was little better off. After their reluctant, but necessary truce, he had retreated to his own corner of the room, clutching nose. He hadn't stopped whining about how he was certain to bleed to death even after he'd staunched the flow on the sleeve of his robes. His cheeks were swollen from Hermione's slaps and there was a gash on his cheek where Hermione had clipped him with a well-thrown chair.

They sat on the floor in opposite sides of the room. Hermione's knees were folded under her chin. Draco leaned against the stone wall, his legs sprawled out. Both were silent and each glared at the other with palpable hatred. They traded insults on occasion to distract themselves from hunger, but neither had enough energy to fight.

"If you lay another hand on me, I'll kill you," spat Malfoy. Only he was still pinching his nose so it came out, "Ib you lay anudder hand on meep, I'll kill yub."

"I doubt you'll ever work up the courage again to come within three feet of me!" Hermione laughed. Then, unable to help herself, Hermione made a sudden movement with her fist. Malfoy flinched. If she hadn't been so hungry, Hermione might have felt guilty for persecuting him, for Malfoys' face flushed hot with embarrassment and he didn't say anything else to her for a long time.

They continued to glower at one another. At some point during their long hours together it had become a game of chicken, to see who could make the other look away first. Hermione discovered that she was not very good at this game. She wanted to get up and move too badly. And she didn't want to look at Malfoy anymore.

Feeling angrier by the second that she was about to lose this particular contest, she broke the silence and said, "Get your hand off your stupid nose, for Merlin's sake. It must have stopped bleeding hours ago."

"I can't," he mumbled through his hand. "I'll rip out by dose hair."

"What?"

"By dose hair!" he cried. "It's dwied to de blood on by hand!"

Hermione gaped at him. "Merlin's pants, Malfoy," she said, shooting to her feet and across the room. Draco recoiled from her, but it was too late. She grabbed his wrist and wrenched his hand away from his nose. He squealed in pain as she ripped out a dozen blood-encrusted nose hairs.

"HEY!!!" he screamed. "That hurt!"

But Hermione had overexerted herself. She'd been without food or water for over a day now, and her sudden movement caused her head to spin. She put a hand over her eyes and leaned against the wall until the dizzy spell passed. Her stomach growled in response, and suddenly all she could think of was food and a pitcher of pumpkin juice. Her eyes began to well with tears as she thought of the meals she had already missed.

"When will they let us out?" she said. She heard the wretchedness in her own voice.

"Whenever my father gets wind of this, they'll be sorry. You'll see."

Hermione glanced down at Draco, ready with a retort about his eternal dependence on 'Daddy,' but she held her tongue. She was so miserable at this moment that an appearance by Lucius Malfoy would be more than welcome if it would only get her dinner.

A moment passed in which nothing could be heard except their breathing. Hermione felt that the air in the tiny room was stale. She felt weak and tired, and thought perhaps of crawling onto the mattress and lying down in spite of her pride. Instead, she turned around, so her back was to the wall and slowly she slid down until she was sitting on the floor next to Draco. He did not acknowledge her.

"Why are they doing this to us?" she asked.

"I don't know," said Draco. "But I'm hungry and they'd better give me some food or else…"

"Or else what? You're going to whine some more?"

"Would you rather hear me complain about how I have to take a piss?" sneered Malfoy.

Hermione folded her arms over her chest, defeated. As a matter of fact, she was starting to feel the call of nature also and was beginning to worry.

Then all of the sudden, a beam of light appeared and the door to the room creaked open. A metal bucket was shoved into the room and just as quickly, the door was slammed shut. Hermione heard the sounds of locks being fastened.

"They're still listening to us," gasped Hermione.

"They are?" said Draco, with hope creeping into his voice. He bolted to his feet and ran to the door. "I'm hungry!" he shouted. "Give me some food! I'm starving! I've got to eat, and if you don't give me some food, you'll all be sorry when my father gets to you!!!!"

"_And_ this is against the law, by the way!" added Hermione, but she was drowned out by Draco's pounding. Her annoyance with Draco, however, dwindled when a little cat flap appeared on the door. It opened and a plate containing two dinner rolls was shoved through.

Draco squealed in delight, and Hermione realized that he would take both for himself if she didn't act. She propelled herself across the room, pushed Draco out of the way and claimed one of the rolls for her own with a little cry of triumph. She held it up to her lips and prepared to bite into it, when all of the sudden she became aware of the scent of grass and new parchment and Ron's hair….

_Amortentia!_

They'd put love potion into the rolls. She whipped her head around to see where Draco was about to stuff the roll into his mouth. "NO!" she cried, preparing to throw herself at him. "DON'T, MALFOY!"

But he spun away from her. "It's mine!" he cried. "And so was that one, as a matter of fact! They're both mine. I asked for the food, and they gave it to _ME. _If you don't want it, hand it over." He thrust out his pale hand in expectation.

Hermione threw her food onto the floor and stomped on it, over and over again until it had turned into crumbs. Draco watched in horror.

"It's got love potion in it, you idiot. If you eat that, you'll fall in love with me. Is that what you want?"

"I'm hungry, you hear!" he cried. "I don't care if I fall in love with Cornelius Fudge; I'm going to eat this roll!"

"I'll never love you back!" she said. "If you eat it, _fine_, but you'll die of a broken heart."

"Better than dying of hunger," he replied. And with that he stuffed the remaining roll into his mouth and chewed. His cheeks puffed out like a squirrel's as he attempted to swallow the entire thing whole. It didn't work. It took several minutes, in fact, before he had finished chewing. By that time, Hermione was sitting at the table, staring at the unfinished Arithmancy problem. She buried her head in her hands.

After a moment, she heard Draco move behind her. His robes were shuffling as he came to join her at the table.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice gentle and full of longing. Hermione groaned.

"Shut up, Malfoy," she muttered under her breath.

"Okay." And he didn't say another word.

Eventually, Hermione worked up the courage to glance over at Draco, only to discover that he was staring at her. His eyes were glistening with emotion, but as per Hermione's instructions, he remained silent. Yet the more time went on, the harder it seemed to be for Draco to keep silent. And after maybe ten minutes, at last, he threw himself at Hermione's feet and placed his hands on her knee in supplication. His face was flushed, his breathing was coming faster and faster. He spoke in nervous starts.

"Oh Hermione, I…I know that I'm only under a l..love spell…but say, would it really be so bad marrying a bloke like me? We could get out of this room. Get something decent to eat. And I could buy you anything you like. You'd never want for a thing!"

"Except a father in law who doesn't want to kill me," she mumbled to herself.

"Was that a yes?" asked Draco. "Oh please say yes!"

"NO!" cried Hermione. And she placed her head in her hands again and wept.


End file.
